Misunderstood

I wish I could make people understand. Understand what it is like to be me. To think what I think, to feel what I feel, to have them truly see and think of a day to day basis how I do. To have them endure the same anxieties that I do on the same level.


Maybe, just maybe people would understand it. People would understand me. If people understood me, they would know that I am a human being, I have feelings. On the outside, I may not be that kid that expresses what I feel, I may not wear my emotions on my sleeve like everyone else but they do exist. I get upset words still do damage. The way people treat me causes damage. From my previous blogs you have gathered that I still struggle with cutting. This semester has been really hard on me. I have had nights where I just need an escape, a quick fix, a way to let everything out. I was doing good until tonight. I fucked up.


If people understood me, they might choose to acknowledge that I exist. I have gone to school here for two years now and I still live in the shadows of everyone's life. I am an after thought, a convenience. I am here to fix your IT problems, or to bring you food, to clean up your mess, and be expected to keep tabs on my roommate. Honestly, nobody has ever come to the room looking for me.
If people understood me, the would learn that my silence is good. I do not sit in silence because I hate people, but because I want to listen. They would know that I do not seek social confrontation because I have been shot down by people over and over again. I isolate myself because that is all I have known.
All of this is just a wish. I wish someone would take the time to get to know me. I want to be understood, I want people to accept me for who I am. I do not want to be changed, I want to be loved. I want to be invested in, to be seen as more than just a warm body that people can take advantage of when needed. X

The Intern

Man, it has been a while since I have posted anything here. To be honest, I am not the best with words nor do I find much of anything I do very interesting. This summer was probably one of the most stressful and discouraging part of my life. I have never felt more betrayed by a place that I hold a deep fondness for.
This summer had the chance to do my internship at my home church. I thought this would be a great opportunity to get to know the people more at my church and make things a little easier on the social aspect. I had pretty full summer, Wednesday night classes, Sunday morning teaching, three weeks of camp, a week of drumming, a mini mission trip, CIY, and VBS. Along with all that, office hours. I was fairly busy.


 My first week of camp was awful, nobody listened in the class and straight up told me they would not due to my gender and the fact that I was not much older than them. Second week I was unexpected dorm mum and nurse. We also had a really bad sickness going around camp. I cleaned up a lot of vomit. I also had to fill in for someone on a class. Third week of camp was canceled. Between the first two being back to back, I was beat. I had about a week or two I between events that I spent in the office doing lesson prep and gathering my supplies. The kids had a blast on Wednesday nights. We walked through the 40 years in the wilderness. They even got to build tents out of PVC. It was also during this time that I let the stresses of life get to me and messed things up with my significant other.


The next big trip was to a school in Arkansas. I went on a mini mission trip with the middle school kids. While we were here, we cleaned up their gardens, transplanted tulips, and deep cleaned the school. It wad also on this trip that I got stung by a red wasp smack dab in the center on top of my hand. Within a 5 hour span, my hand was swollen to my fingertips all the up to my elbow. Freakin savage. I ended every evening with a small reflection of the day and verse or two from the book of Philippines.

Following this was CIY. Again I only had one day I between the two to do laundry. This week legit kicked me in the feels. We walked through the book of Ephesians each night in the main session and talked a little bit after them. Small groups were also different and were more about getting to know one another more and building a stronger relationship with one another. It was here that I shared my story for the first time, every detail with 13 kids that I have been working with the entire summer, with adults that had watched me grow up in the church and had no idea. I was not cool with it at first, but God uses that to impact more than what we think.

For our extended recreation, we went to and Escape Room. We were split into two groups and locked in a room. We had an hour to escape. My group was two steps away, the other group had four. Overall, the trip was a blast. I got to grow closer with a lot of the kids and even some of the adults.
Following this was VBS. I was in charge of games. All of them were water games, so that was fun. It was also during this time that I got to fix things with my significant other, so that made things better as well.


So as you read this you are like yo...what is so discouraging about all of this? My first week of camp made me feel like a failure, nothing went right, nobody really cares, and the kids smeared ink all over my stuff. Following this were two board meetings that I got to attend. In both of these, the role of women in the church was brought up. This has been an issue that I had fought before, but have been able to drop it. This went on for two months and the main elders basically decided that a woman cannot: Give communion meditation, pass offering plates, pass communion plate, speak doctrine, or teach a class even if it is not on a "standard" church night. She is to have mo authority over man at all. Heaven forbid a man show up and want to learn something from a woman. As you can tell I am a little bitter. To say that is stupid, if someone has knowledge let them share it. If God has blessed a female with knowledge do not let her keep it to herself, let her share it with others.
As an end result to all of this I was basically told that yes, we support your choice, yes we support you, but you will never be a youth minister; the only thing you can be is a minister's wife. This enraged me, it is an insult. It is basically saying you are not good enough, your voice does not matter. I got this from my home church. It crushed me. It made me angry, and it severely discouraged to the point that I do not even want to be here this semester. I still have the feeling, it is hard to battle sometimes. Even now, being here with my profs and fellow classmates it is hard to stay encouraged about such things.
Well that is about all I have for right now. Going to a steam punk festival this weekend, followed by a trip to an amusement park the next weekend. So many adventures, may post about them! Stay fabulous! X

Just a Spark

Imagine that your mind got stuck, stuck on a certain thought or image. Take that thought and image and replay it in your mind

over

and over

and over

no matter what you did, you don't want these thoughts

eventually, it feels like an avalanche...

to make things worse, add intense feelings of anxiety...

This is OCD. This is what I feel every day.

Background:

OCD is an anxiety disorder. It involves performing certain routines or habits repetitively. For many people it can be checking things or having certain thoughts. If these routines or habits are not done, it could cause a lot of distress and totally shatter ones daily life. The habits are called obsession. Trying to control these can become overwhelming and ultimately may end up controlling the person instead.

Background on my OCD:

The first time I remember showing signs of OCD was in fourth grade. I was in the art room sitting with a couple of classmates at the table. I remember looking at the box of coloured pencils in front of me and saying...."That doesn't look right...this bothers me." I remember pushing the thoughts back until I had a tear rolling down my face. I started to "fix" them, to put them in a way that made them "feel right." After that, everything else was pointed out to me. I would get made fun of for counting my steps while walking down the hallway making sure to end on a safe number, or counting while washing my hands. This continued all the way up until I reached high school. 

I was diagnosed with a severe case Obsessive Compulsive Disorder my freshman year in school, not only that but I also had social anxiety. At first I did not believe what they, I could quit counting steps, I could quit fixing things, I didn't need things to be a certain way in order for me to carry on with my daily life. I sat in a room with a Doctor who made me do a bunch of tests. I was told to wash my hands once and sit down. Walking over to the sink I was like...."alright...I've got this...once...one." After I did that, I took my seat. We sat there in silence for a bit. It took about five seconds for my mind to start racing through all of these thoughts. "I didn't do it four times...four is my number...one is not a good number....something is going to happen because I didn't do this the correct number of times." I became squirmy and restless, the anxiety kicked in when I go up to finish my thing, I was told to sit down, to push through, to fight myself, this wasn't something that was needed to be done.

I didn't go back after that. I told my parents I was fine. I did my best to avoid triggers for my compulsions. It didn't work. I just told myself that over time it would fade, it would go away, I didn't need help. That is the biggest lie I have ever told myself. I takes a strong person to do that. There times where I do really good, but it only takes once trigger to send me back. If you are one of those strong people that have done this on your own......I'm proud of you, I commend you, you are awesome!!! I look up to you. x